Yesterday I had to work especially hard. Our new furniture for our new rooms was delivered. We had forgotten to move the two pieces that would be in the way, and the delivery instructions clearly said that they wouldn't do it. I called Terry in the morning and reminded him that we forgot to do it, but that I'd take care of it.
After they came, I rearranged the furniture that we did have in there, moved the TV and reconnected all those wires and cords, and tidied up. It was looking good.
Terry came home, asking as he walked in, "Did it come? How does it look?"
He walked around and nodded a few times, and then was going to head upstairs to change clothes.
"You can't muster more of a reaction than that?" I asked. "Some enthusiasm for all my hard work?"
"It looks really great. I like it."
When he came back downstairs, he said, "So did the guys move the other furniture?"
"No, I moved the furniture. I told you that they weren't going to move it," I reminded him. "So I moved the furniture before they came, and I set everything up after they came."
I had decided to just to be happy letting my aching back applaud me for a job well done.
But then I remembered my faithful blog readers--you'd like to see some pictures, right?